


Worth It

by faithfulpenelope



Series: The Thousandth Man [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulpenelope/pseuds/faithfulpenelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Captain Pike finds out about Jim and Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

It’s meant to be a joke.

But because these kinds of jokes never turn out well, and because mayhem seems to follow Jim Kirk around like a deranged stalker, it ends at the emergency room.

Kirk claims he doesn’t know what Cadet Shear’s problem with him is, and Pike believes him. He wouldn’t have in the beginning, but he realizes now that for whatever reason people tend to just _react_ to Kirk, like he’s a volatile element. Pike has his own hypothesis, namely, that Kirk has knocked Shear off the top of about six different class rankings, but Jim doesn’t know that. Shear shouldn’t either, but Pike just found out Shear’s girlfriend works in Barnett’s office, distributing supposedly-confidential monthly reports. There’s an lieutenant on his way there to pull her in for a chat.

The door chimes and Pike calls for it to open, and in walks Kirk, looking significantly better than the last time Pike saw him, which was flat on a biobed, an oxygen shield buzzing around him, drowsy on a powerful mixture of anti-histamines. When Shear decided he’d take out his frustrations out on Kirk by exploding a smoke bomb in his face as Kirk steered his way through his final flight sim, he couldn’t have known that Kirk would be highly allergic to the powder. Kirk probably didn’t know he was allergic; the only person who has taken the time to memorize the extensive list of known allergens as well as the likely candidates list is Leonard McCoy, another one of Pike's wayward recruits. The responding medic certainly hadn’t known, and hadn’t listened to Kirk’s wheezed protestations as he treated him with the standard medication, the one Kirk _did_ know he was allergic to. From there it had been ten minutes of panic as Kirk gasped for air and the medic scrambled to find the little-used back-up drug, which, once administered, worked as it should, leaving Kirk pink-faced and tired but generally unharmed under his oxygen shield.

Kirk still looks tired but the dry smirk is firmly back in place, even as he stands in oversized medical scrubs. “Do you think I should send Shear a fruit basket for getting me out of finals?” he snarks, and Pike can’t help but chuckle.

“You’ll be sending it to his parents’ house, then,” he says, and Kirk looks surprised. “You’re kicking him out?”

“While he did not mean to cause you as much harm as he did, Shear still orchestrated a dangerous stunt in an enclosed environment in the middle of official Academy business as an act of petty revenge. That is conduct highly unbecoming of a Starfleet cadet and completely unsuitable for a Starfleet officer.” Pike narrows his eyes. “Did you think we wouldn’t punish him?”

“No – I mean, I figured he’d get confined to campus for a while, some community service maybe,” Kirk stammers. “I didn’t think – not because of –”

_Not because of me._

The words hang in the air even without Kirk saying them.

“You’re a cadet of Starfleet Academy.” Pike holds Kirk’s gaze steady. “And as such will be treated with the same respect as every other cadet.”

_Regardless of who your father is. Regardless of how you got here._

There’s a war of emotions brewing behind those bright blue eyes, but Kirk just blinks and stands a little straighter. “Yes, sir,” he say finally.

“Good. Now, as for rescheduling your exams -”

“ _Cadet! You can’t go in there_!” Pike’s assistant’s voice carries through the closed door and Pike’s walking around his desk to ask _what the hell is going on_ when he hears a familiar, distinctly Southern, accent.

“ _It’s_ Doctor, _and the hell I can’t_!”

“Ah, crap,” Kirk mumbles under his breath. Pike just raises an eyebrow.

The door slides open and Leonard McCoy bursts in, all righteous fury in his white medical uniform, Pike’s assistant right behind him. “Sir, I told him he had to wait -”

“It’s fine, Lieutenant,” Pike tells him, and the man looks at him, indignant, before giving a curt nod and stalking back out. “Nice of you to join us, Doctor McCoy,” he says, but it’s like he isn’t even there, the way McCoy is glaring at Kirk, who looks as if he’s bracing for impact.

“You want to explain to me why I had to find out you almost died from the chatty ensign at the hospital front desk?” he demands, and Kirk winces.

“I didn’t almost die -”

“You suffered multiple severe allergic reactions to an unknown powder and a powerful medication and almost went into full cardiac shock. Never lie to a man who has full access to your medical records, Jim.”

“I told the medic I was allergic to the standard treatment, he just didn’t listen. But they fixed it, and I’m fine now.” Kirk gives McCoy the winsome smile that’s gotten him out of countless scraps but McCoy just scowls, immune.

“That’s not the point, Jim. You almost died, and you don’t think to call me?” There’s a hint of pain in the last word, and Pike suddenly realizes McCoy’s concern might be more than medical.

“You were in your xeno-anatomy practicum. You’ve been prepping non-stop for a week. I was not going to interrupt you because of this.” Kirk waves a hand in front of himself as if to say, _this nonsense_ , and it’s clear he’s disgusted at the thought of McCoy being pulled out of his exam for him. McCoy grabs the hand out of the air and squeezes it, hard, looks Jim dead in the eye.

“ _Fuck_ my exam,” he growls, yanks Kirk a little closer, and Pike feels distinctly like he’s intruding on something, no matter that it’s _his_ office. “ _Fuck_ whatever I’m doing. If you’re hurt, you _comm me_.”

The air between them changes and Kirk’s face softens as his free hand comes up to cup McCoy’s cheek and he pulls him closer until their foreheads touch. “I will,” he says softly, and McCoy gives a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry, Bones. I promise, I will.”

“Okay,” McCoy whispers.

“I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, I know.” He pulls back a little, tugs on Kirk’s collar to fully reveal the pink remains of allergy-induced rash. “I’m gonna kill the asshole that did this to you,” he swears, and Kirk laughs.

“Better watch where you make those threats,” he teases, nods his head over McCoy’s shoulder, and McCoy turns, looks at Pike like he has no idea where he’s come from.

“Captain.” McCoy straightens, drops Kirk’s hand, and Kirk lets him go. “I apologize. It was uncalled for of me to storm in here and to speak with the lieutenant the way I did.”

“Yes, it was,” Pike says evenly. “So you’d better apologize to him on your way out. But in the meantime, I trust I can count on you to make any necessary updates to Cadet Kirk’s medical file?”

McCoy looks stunned, darts a quick look over to Kirk, but recovers quickly. “Yes, sir,” he says. “Already done. And I’ll be adding additional flags to the system to better alert medics to his known allergens, especially medications.”

“Good. Then you’re dismissed.”

“I – yes, sir.” He hazards a last glance at Kirk, who gives him a quirk of smile.

“I’ll meet you at yours when I’m done,” he says quietly, and McCoy nods, takes his leave. For a moment, Kirk and Pike just look at each other. “Sorry about that,” Kirk says finally. He’s speaking slowly, obviously trying to parse his words carefully. “He gets a little…worked up sometimes.”

Pike eyes him, wonders if he’s going to just say what they both already know. When Kirk just looks back, Pike does it himself. “It’s hard when someone you love is hurt,” he says, and Kirk’s eyes flash bright with surprise and fear and something else, relief, maybe. “And we’re not speaking of brotherly love, are we, Jim?”

Kirk looks like he might fight it for a minute, try to obfuscate the situation, throw up a road block, but then he huffs. “No, sir. Bones and I, we’re…”

“In love,” Pike supplies, and Kirk holds his eye for a few seconds before he nods. “You realize the potential complications here? At the very least, I should be removing him as your personal physician.”

“ _No_ ,” Kirk shouts, before he clamps his mouth shut again and composes himself. “Please, sir. Bones – Dr. McCoy – he’s the only one I trust. He’s the only one that knows -” A dark shadow swims across his eyes and he looks down at the floor. “He’s the only one familiar with my whole file, sir. _Please_.”

Pike sighs, studies him, this enigmatic young man before him. He knows what the outside world sees, the brash confidence and the suave smiles, knows that some see it as genuine genius while others chafe at the seeming rebellious entitlement. Pike doesn’t pretend to know all that much more, but he does know some. He knows that the rebelliousness comes from a place of deep hurt and insecurity, from being forced to carry the weight of a painful legacy. He knows Kirk’s confidence shouldn’t be interpreted as self-importance, because Jim Kirk may believe he’s meant for great things but won’t do it on the backs of others, only through his own strength. He knows Kirk’s long list of freakish allergies is very likely connected to a strangely white-washed chunk of his medical history, when the litany of little boy injuries comes to a halt and the young Kirk suddenly doesn’t get sick, doesn’t get hurt for two years, only to emerge on the other end an inch shorter and twenty pounds lighter than expected and with a host of immune system issues.

He knows he’s unlikely to ever get answers about any of it from Kirk. He knows the only person who might is Leonard McCoy.

He senses McCoy might have gotten some of them already.

Pike won’t ever say it, but Jim Kirk isn’t a normal Starfleet cadet. He’s much more.

“If someone else finds out, I won’t be able to stop them from pulling you from his care,” he says finally, and Kirk lets go of the breath he’d been holding.

“Understood, sir. Thank you.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asks. It’s completely inappropriate, what he’s asking, but he and Kirk have never been terribly appropriate. You pull a man off the floor of a bar and stuff napkins up his bleeding nose before even introducing yourself, and it tends to form a different kind of bond. “You’re sure it’s worth it?”

For his part, Kirk doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, sir. I’m sure. We’re sure.”

Pike believes him. And strangely enough, he’s pretty sure for them too.

“Your professors have been advised of the situation with Shears. If you have any trouble rescheduling your exams, see me.” Kirk gives a sharp nod. “And if you have any other…issues, with Shear or any of his cohorts, you let me know immediately.”

Kirk blinks, like the thought of reporting another cadet doesn’t compute. “Sure,” he says blandly.

“ _Jim_ ,” Pike growls. “I’m serious. If I heard about anything from anyone other than you, we’re going to have problems.” Kirk bristles just the slightest before he catches himself, takes a breath and nods, and Pike hopes he isn’t reading too much into it when he thinks it must be because Kirk recognizes he can trust Pike. “All right. You’re dismissed. I’d reiterate your doctor’s orders but…” The corner of his mouth twitches up just the slightest. “I have a feeling Dr. McCoy has that covered.”

Kirk smiles, and it’s got an instinctive happiness to it that’s completely different from his usual grins. “That he does,” he says dryly, and Pike shakes his head.

“Out,” he orders.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Kirk barks, and he’s turning towards the door when there’s a hesitation, and he turns back. “Thank you, sir,” he says quietly. “I know I’m - ” He pauses, casts his eyes downward. “I know I’m a lot. So, thank you.”

This time, it’s Pike’s turn to not hesitate. “You are,” he says, because he is. It’s been years since Pike has spent this much time on one cadet, keeping him in line, keeping him out of trouble. But it’s been years since he’s seen a cadet he believes in this much. “And you’re worth it.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

McCoy’s in the bedroom when he hears the doors slide open. Kirk appears in the doorway a second later, and Bones feels the familiar wave of relief he gets when Jim comes home in one piece.

“Hey,” Jim says, and his voice is soft and subdued. He’s already toed off his boots and socks and he strips off the patient scrubs before he crawls up next to Bones, who shoves his PADDs out of the way and pulls Jim a little closer.

“You okay?” he asks, anxious, because a quiet Jim is an upset Jim. It hadn’t even occurred to him until after he left Pike’s office that they’d all but made out in front of the dean of students, and he braces himself for the lecture Pike must have delivered.

“I’m okay,” Jim says, strokes his neck where his heartbeat pulses fast under the skin. “It’s okay, Pike’s not going to say anything. He didn’t even make me switch my attending physician.”

Bones blinks in surprise. “He didn’t?” he says dumbly.

“Says if someone else finds out, he can’t stop them, but he’s not going to do anything.” He tucks his chin to his chest, bites at his lower lip. “Am I stupid to trust him, Bones?”

It’s a loaded question, one that Bones can’t even begin to fully unfold, so he goes for the simplest answer possible. “No,” he says. “I don’t think so. I trust him.”

“Yeah,” Jim says softly, almost inaudibly. “I do too.”

Bones hums his agreement. “All the way up to two people,” he teases, and is relieved when Jim laughs under him.

“Well, you don’t count,” Jim rejoins. “I never knew anything but to trust you.”

He says it so simply, so matter of fact, that Bones doesn’t have any chance but to know it, accept it in his heart as truth. “Yeah,” he says, presses a kiss to the nape of Jim’s neck. “And it was so worth it.”


End file.
